LG

In this life, I was loved by you

Yesterday,
Bella was throwing a typical fit.
She even wrote me a note.
It said,
“Nobody likes me.”
Did I teach her to feel this way?
To self depricate?
I worry about it.
I tried to reason with her.
I told her that lots of people love her.
I told her that if she whines and cries,
it makes people uncomfortable,
and they may not want to play with her,
when she acts like that, but they still love her.
She was on the couch pouting.
It was funny,
I had been feeling kind of the same way.
I was doing dishes pouting.
I laughed.
Just as Bella was waiting for someone or something
to make her feel better,
I had been waiting
for my husband to make it better.
I should have written him a note
that said
“Nobody likes me.”
It might have been a little less subtle than my pouting.
I thought about what I wanted to hear.
I decided to test it on Bella.
To see if it would make everything better.
So, I said to Bella:
“Alice…um…I mean, Bella, I love you.
You mean the world to me.
I am so proud of you.
You are such a good helper.
Even if nobody else likes you,
I like you a lot.
I love you a lot.
I’m sorry that you are sad.”
She was miraculously cured.
People say women are complicated.
Really we aren’t.
We just want to be loved.
Like everybody else.

Here are the ever so true lyrics to one of my favorite songs:
For all I’ve been blessed with in this life
There was an emptiness in me
I was imprisoned by the power of gold
But one honest touch could set me free
Let the world stop turnin’
Let the sun stop burnin’
Let them tell me love’s not worth going through
If it all falls apart
I will know deep in my heart
The only dream that mattered had come true
In this life, I was loved by you
For every mountain I have climbed
Every raging river crossed
You were the treasure that I’d longed to find
Without your love I would be lost
Let the world stop turnin’
Let the sun stop burnin’
Let them tell me love’s not worth going through
If it all falls apartI will know deep in my heart
The only dream that mattered had come true
In this life, I was loved by you

Who snores at your house?
I love you LG!
A few posts back, I confessed something HUGE.
Yep, LG and I are in marriage counseling.
I would like to take this opportunity to clarify a few things,
as LG was a little (o.k. A LOT) worried about telling the world.
And even though I got his permission for disclosure
way before I even considered writing the post,
he was still very skittish about everybody knowing.
In fact, he checked my comments hourly for the two days after the post.
He was convinced that I would get no comments at all
because people would feel awkward with the topic.
So, even if you feel awkward about it,
I beg of you, support my hubby and leave a comment.
Or don’t. (He’ll get over it)
LG wanted me to make it known that
just because we are in counseling,
he and I were never really on the virge of divorce.
O.k. there may have been a week or two there a few years back,
like the first and second year of law school.
(But I am sure most couples are on the brink of disaster during law school.)
Or I may have entertained divorce frequently our whole first year of our marriage,
but recently we have been mostly happy.
We just started having many experiences that our own weaknesses
were becoming very evident.
Our own “baggage” was affecting us way too much,
and it was eating away at us individually
and at our marriage.
We wanted to change the cycles.
So, we went with an expert.
Because we are humble and smart.
Not because we are weak or ignorant.
One of the first things we learned in therapy is
that we need to not point fingers at each other.
I read this quote this morning and thought it very appropriate.
“A marriage is always made up of two people
who are prepared to swear that only the other one snores.”
And after months of counseling,
I still say with a sure knowledge that LG snores
way longer and louder than me.
But, I can now also admit, that I snore too.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
And, I’m not pointing fingers.
I have video.

Well Rounded

We are trying to teach our girls to be well-rounded.
This photo is one proof that we are succeeding.
Sophia is a fashionista who plopped down to read in the field
as soon as soccer was over last week.
Another proof happened last Saturday.
Here was the conversation between LG and I:
LG: “The girls don’t want to eat their lunch until this round is over.”
Me: “This round?”
LG: “Yeah, didn’t you know that they watch WWF every Saturday.”
And then Sunday after church,
here was the conversation between the girls and I.
Me: “O.k. girls, let’s do something else besides watch T.V. today.”
Abigail, “Well, what about the opera?”
(They have been watching the opera every Sunday.)
Me: “O.k. you can watch T.V. if it’s the opera,
or we will help you pick a Sunday appropriate movie.”
Sophia replied with, “I’m not in the mood for the opera.”
Abigail screamed, “Can we watch Harry Potter?”
I’ve told them that they can watch any movie on Sunday
as long as they can tell me how that movie
helps them think about God or Jesus Christ.
hmmmmm…I wonder what Abigail’s answer
to the frequently repeated question would have been:
“What does Harry Potter teach you about God or Jesus Christ?”
I am sure she would have come up with something.
Our girls are well-rounded like that.
They have keen understanding.
It’s all because of the WWF and the Opera;
And the soccer and the reading.

The love for the hubby

LG is finally ready to admit that we have been in counseling. And so now, you all get to hear about it. Aren’t you lucky? Marriage counseling has been a great experience and we’ve learned a lot about ourselves and each other. We highly recommend it, and wish we would have gone 12 years ago. I don’t know when or if we will ever “graduate”, but hope that it will be really soon.

One day our awesome therapist mentioned the love we have for each other. I said, “Yeah, that is the reason we are here, we’ve got to figure this out, we love each other too much to leave.” It’s ironic that LG is a divorce attorney, and he himself would never get a divorce. LG and our therapist are always teasing each other about giving each other referrals. It’s funny to see a marriage counselor and a divorce attorney strike up a good friendship.

Well, one of the good things about counseling has been that LG is now willing to admit that he has problems. WOW! It only took me 12 years to break him. Just kidding. We all know that my problems are just as bad, if not worse.
I thought that these pictures were appropriate to my feelings about my man lately. With a little coaching, and kissing, LG is turning into quite the prince charming. Let me tell you, counseling has been worth every dollar.

And here is a story to make you laugh. Thanks to Valerie for the e-mail forward.
A Doctor was addressing a large audience in Tampa:
“The material we put into our stomachs is enough to have killed most of us sitting here, years ago. Red meat is awful. Soft drinks corrode your stomach lining. Chinese food is loaded with MSG. High fat diets can be disastrous, and none of us realizes the long-term harm caused by the germs in our drinking water. But there is one thing that is the most dangerous of all and we all have, or will, eat it. Can anyone here tell me what food it is that causes the most grief and suffering for years after eating it?”
After several seconds of quiet, a 75-year-old man in the front row raised his hand, and softly said, “Wedding Cake?”

Please RSVP

After our last Purple People Eater party.

I proudly proclaimed that I was out of the party business.

(Yes, I wanted to see how many p’s I could fit in a sentence)

This party planner is pooped!!!

Abigail has been driving us crazy with her psychological warfare.

She has decided to plan and plan and overplan her own party.

I think she thinks that if she writes enough ideas down

and keeps on keeping on that we will cave.

She may be right.

We told her she could only invite 3-4 friends to the movie.

She wants a Harry Potter movie birthday.

For a whole month, we have heard every idea known to JK Rowling.

And she is driving me crazy!!!! And as you will see, she is driving LG crazy too.

So, the funny part.

Yesterday, LG decided to join in the fun.

Lori and Cally and Rita,

I hope you will make sure and tell Scott, Conan and Matt to RSVP.

This will be a party they don’t want to miss.

Seriously, how hilarious is my hubby?
What will be funnier?
The fact that he actually made this party plan
or when I execute it?

One word
This post was inspired by Scribbit’s April Write-Away Contest.
There is one word that is always appropriate. This word is there no matter what the circumstance. Joy and pain. Trials and triumphs. Ups and downs. Sickness and health. Obstacles and open roads. Wonder and boredom. Love and annoyance. Hopefully more love. As unbelievable as it may sound, this one word can bring incredible comfort and total terror all in the same utterance.

The word can be whispered or belted. Shrieked or endeared. It has a version in every language known to mankind and is often the first word mastered by a developing infant. I am pretty sure that there are even distinct animal noises used for its meaning. I swear sometimes I can hear our family cat meow it out when she wants to get in or out of the house.

This one word can be enunciated with many different dialects even by the same child. It has endless amounts of pronunciations….the one syllable miraculously changes in tone, depending on the circumstance.

You hear it at the grocery store from a wandering child. The tone a little frightened but loud and strong, “Mom?!” Sometimes you go searching for a lost one, even though you know that none of yours are there. Some of yours may be lost, so, you just can’t help but make sure that the one calling out is not.

What about the eulogy so powerful it brought the room to tears….”most of all, she is my mom, and always will be, and to me nothing else is more important about her.”

The teenager tends to irreverence the name the most, “Just ignore her; pretend she’s not my mom.”

I even heard a police officer once tell a classroom full of children: “If you are ever in trouble, get safe as fast as possible. If someone is hurting you, tell a teacher, or a police officer, or find a mom with kids as fast as you can.”

Perhaps the sweetest utterances of the one all powerful word are the ones from little children. They seem to use the word more than anyone. The word seems to work in all circumstances for all of their needs. Let me give you a few examples from my own experience.

“Mom, I didn’t get elected for student council. Mom….” followed by incoherent sobs.

“MOM!!!! Her hair, it’s tangled up in the rope swing…..Hurry mom.”

“Guess what, mom?”

“Mom, I think there is chocolate in the carpet, or maybe it’s poop?”

“Mom, it hurts so bad.”

“Mom, are you coming on my field trip?”

“Mom, don’t forget your camera.”

“Mom, I need a band-aid.”

“Mom, she’s bugging me again.”

“Mom, will you read me a story?”

“Mom, will you please stop taking pictures!?”

“Mom, I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

“Mom, I drew you a picture….look, the big one is you, and the little one is me.”

“Mom, I had a bad dream.”

“Make her stop, mom.”

“Mom, I don’t want to set the table.”

“Mom, I’m hungry.”

“Mom, I’m bored.”

“Mom, I can’t find my shoes.”

“Mom, can we go to the movies?”

“Mom, where is my library book?”

“Mom, when is dad coming home?”

“Mom’s what for dinner?”

“Mom, can you check my homework?”

“Mom, can you help me clean my room?”

“Mom, I am sick of spelling.”

“No, mom, I am not tired.”…followed by sobbing, slight nodding, and the sweet sound of heavy breathing.

Every utterance of the word seems to carry a different emotion and a different intonation. The whole spectrum is in there. It’s as if, just by simply adding “mom”, magic will be inevitable. Mom can make everything o.k. Mom can motivate. Mom can comfort. Mom can fix. Mom knows all. Mom is almost omnipotent. Mom is totally versatile, even when she doesn’t budge. Mom can tell you what you need to hear, even when she is a push over.

Sometimes when the word mom is added to a sentence it completely brightens one’s existence.

“Mom, you are the best mom in the whole wide world.”

“Mom, you are beautiful.”

“Mom, I love you.”

Or one of the best ever:

“When I grow up, I want to be a mom, just like you.”

There are many moments in many days when a mother cannot think of anything better to be called than simply mom. You can give her awards or accolades or certificates or trophies, but nothing outdoes this simple statement of pure admiration, “I want to be a mom”, followed with, “just like you.” No nickname, no term of endearment, not even a kiss from the man you love can make you feel as good as that kid that wants to be just like you. There is no higher compliment.

Of course there are times when we use the word in reference to someone other than our own. I recently heard this from a friend.

“I always wished my mom was more like yours.”

It’s funny because I always wanted my mom to be more like Melanie’s. Man! Toast and hot chocolate never tasted so good. My mom was not a morning person, and Melanie’s mom fed me breakfast almost every morning of junior high school. Why? Because she was a mom. And I had the privilege of watching her answer to every one of Melanie’s “moms” while simultaneously filling my empty stomach as I waited for Melanie, my walking partner.

Now I find my kids using the psychological tactic on me, “Mom, why can’t you be more like so and so’s mom?” I return with the oldy but goodie: “Because her mom doesn’t love her as much as I love you, that’s why. No mom should let their child roam the neighborhood like that.”

As a mom, there is one thing you realize more than anything: moms aren’t perfect. Even if our name carries a need for perfection, all moms screw up. This mom is no different. It’ll be o.k. if my daughters grow up wishing that I was different. Heck, I wish I was different too. They can admire those other moms, and they can even want to be like them when they grow up. It doesn’t diminish the joy that I have in being their mom.

Some days I try to be like Melanie’s mom. I especially have to remember that best tasting toast and hot chocolate every morning when I drag this non-morning mother out of bed. But, most days, I shock myself, because I find myself being a mom that frighteningly resembles my own. I am sure that I say things from time to time that my kids don’t want to hear, striking them with fear. I know my mom isn’t going to tell me what I want to hear most of the time, but who is it that I call when I really need advice?

“Mom, what do you think about….”

“Thanks mom, I feel so much better now.”

When my children hear mom, I am sure they mostly think of me. Sometimes I am sure they will say the one word with terror.

“Mom, I spilled the whole gallon of milk again.”

I know that they will also say the word with admiration. Hopefully more often than with terror.

“Mom, you are so good at cleaning.”

I just pray that when they grow up, no matter whose mom they take after, they will realize that this mom is the one that loved them the most. Hopefully that one word, mom, will mostly bring them comfort. And nothing makes me feel better, except for maybe a compliment from my mom. Especially when it’s:

“Oh Alice, you are such a great mom.”

Monday Morning
We had a great Easter at Grammy and Papa’s.
And lookee, LG took a picture of his beloved wife.
Go figure…there’s finally a photo of me at eight months pregnant.
We never got the chance to mow before we left.
Why is it that every time the weather is good we have other obligations?
It seems that the contest I invented last week
to see which daughter could pick the most dandelions was not successful enough.
I am so thrilled with the Knox County employee who chose to give us the
Monday after the holiday off of school.
There is nothing like a day to recoup after a long weekend,
especially when I drove home until 1 am, dreamt of disgruntled clients with guns all night, and took a child to the doctor at 8 am.
Today is just what I needed.
It has been just enough time for Sophia to wrap her hair up in the rope swing.
And Abigail to dress up like a cat.

Did I mention that it’s a jungle out there?
And yes those are my pj pants.
And here are the dogwoods just for fun.
Because today there is reason to celebrate.
We’re watching Cheaper By the Dozen
and I’m wishing for 9 more….
maybe one would learn how to mow the lawn.

Time and Perspective

My last post was about Duane working at the same place for 40 years.

Now I just read a news story about a time frame of 2 years. It was extremely disturbing. I was going to post this tomorrow, but it is so disturbing, I thought it would make for a good April’s Fools Day….EXCEPT it’s NOT a joke!

Two mothers in Russia, were forced by the courts to re-swap their 2 year old sons. They had been sent home with the wrong mothers at birth.

“Both sons are having a hard time adjusting to their new homes”, are the words at the end of the report.

Yeah, duh?

This story reminds me of the mothers in the Bible who came to King Solomon with one dead child. You know the “real mother”. The one who said to let the other “selfish lady” keep the child because she couldn’t bare for Solomon to cut it in half.

I like to think I would be the mom who would give the other lady her son back, and tell her to keep mine too. It would break my heart to take a child away from the only mother he has ever known. And then I would pray like heck that some sane judge out there would be as wise as Solomon and let me keep the child that I thought was mine.

Can you imagine giving a child up after two years? I don’t care what the DNA tests say. Giving mine up (the one that looked like me or not) would be seriously life altering….like permanent residence in a mental institution altering.

At the top….that’s Bella at not quite two. Man she was so cute!!!!

Thank goodness no one mixed her up at the hospital. If she didn’t look so much like me, I would almost worry now.

Two minutes is all it takes to change a mother’s perspective….well, I guess not all mothers’ perspectives.

Is it just me or is the mom that pursued her mixed up child crazy????

Dad’s Money
A few weeks back Bella accompanied me to the bank. It was a wondrous experience for her as she had never been to Daddy’s work bank before.
We stood in the line for the teller.
Bella asked me about my little deposit bag. I explained to her that this was daddy’s bank for work
and that I had to give the bank the money that dad had earned.
She asked me how much money daddy had in the bank. I told her that it wasn’t very much, but that this deposit would give him more money.
She exclaimed to me and the three people behind us in line:
“Maybe we should go to daddy’s work and get his money.
Daddy has a lot of money at work.”
I was perplexed.
I then rememebered that we have been trying to teach Bella about coins. Daddy had given her free reign in his change drawer a few days before. She loved counting all those pennies. I guess I had better go and rescue the change from the office, now that you all know where mu hugely successful lawyer keeps his big bucks.